Ignorance Isn't Always Bliss
by Monroe-Militia
Summary: After a traumatic accident, Bass Monroe lands himself in a mental hospital due to creating a coping mechanism of an alternate world where all of the electricity has turned off. Can he be rescued from his delusions?
1. Chapter 1 (Rachel)

Rachel Matheson did not want to be here. She did not want to be walking into this mental hospital while her boyfriend was lying in a regular one. She'd already been here a few times before and had ended up regretting it each time. Why did she think that there was any chance that she could get through to Bass when he was caught up in his sick and twisted delusions?

If it weren't for Miles, she wouldn't even bother trying. Sure, she felt bad for Bass, but she was also afraid of him like this. She was certain that he was a lost cause… And yet here she was.

She took a deep breath and braced herself before stepping into Bass's room.

As she entered the room, he stood up and made a grand gesture around the room as if it were something impressive and not just a room filled with white- White walls, white chairs, white bedding, white everything to match his white clothes.

"Hello, Rachel. I trust that you're enjoying the accommodations here?" He asked in a snide tone as a smug look crossed his face. "You may be a prisoner here, but I think that if you just cooperate that you'll find that you could live better than most of the republic does."

"What republic?" Rachel asked in an admittedly less than friendly tone. "The one that you made up in your head? …Well I think it's about time that you finally snap out of it because Miles is awake."

Bass didn't seem to hear her, or even acknowledge her, as he took a step dangerously close to her. It was amazing that he could somehow manage to look that intimidating while dressed in the all-white uniform of a mental institution with wild bed-head and bags under his eyes that made it look like he hadn't gotten more than a few hours of sleep total in the last month… Or maybe that was exactly what made him look so scary.

"…Or, if you want to continue to refuse when asked to cooperate," Bass continued. "You won't just be going back to your cell-"

"If anyone is in a cell, it's you," Rachel tried to interrupt, but he just kept on talking as if he hadn't heard a word that she had said… Probably because he hadn't, not really anyways.

"No, I've got a much better punishment in store for you, _Rachel_," The word came out like poison on his tongue before a sinister smirk crossed his features.

"What happened to you, Bass?" Rachel asked in a raised voice, trying to somehow get through to him although she had known that even the tiniest glimmer of hope was gone after he hadn't even shown a glimmer of recognition towards reality when she had told him that his best friend was awake. "Even when you first came here, when you first started to lose it, you still weren't like this. You weren't sadistic."

"I have Danny, Rachel. And if you don't start giving me the answers that I've been looking for, then I'm going to torture your son until you wish that he had never been born because at least then he wouldn't have to live through the consequences of _your_ actions!" By the time that he finished this threat, Bass was shouting as he pointed his finger at her to emphasize his words.

Rachel felt tears springing to her eyes and brought a hand up to cover her mouth in shock as a choked sobbing sound emerged from her throat.

"You bastard." She said, shaking her head back and forth in disbelief before she was unable to hold back a scream of anger. "You _bastard_! You know that-" Her voice cracked as tears ran down her cheeks. "You _know_ that Danny was stillborn! Just like you know what that did to me… Just like you know that it ended my marriage with Ben. Don't you _dare_ use him against me… Don't you dare!"

A nurse who had heard the yelling and commotion came running into the room and quickly asked, "What's going on in here? Is everything alright?"

"I was just leaving," Rachel said weakly turning and exiting the room without so much as a glance back. It wasn't until she was out of the room that she stopped to wipe the tears from her cheeks.

When she got back to the hospital, Rachel found Miles struggling to stay awake as he smiled at her from his hospital bed.

"Good, you're back," he told her. "Other than Ben stopping by for a few minutes, I haven't had any visitors. Honestly, I'm surprised that Bass hasn't come by yet trying to sneak in beer for me or something."

Rachel forced a smile onto her lips, not wanting Miles to find out about Bass's condition so soon after waking up from the coma that he had been in for months.

"You should get some sleep, you can barely keep your eyes open," She told him.

"I took a four month power-nap, I think that I can handle staying awake for a few minutes longer," he commented with a teasing smirk, which immediately fell when he saw the worried look on her face. "What is it?"

"What's what?" She asked innocently.

"I know you, Rachel. What are you worried about me finding out?" Miles asked in a concerned tone. "Is it about Bass? …He's alright after the accident isn't he? I mean you would have told me if-"

He couldn't even make himself say the words that were weighing on his mind.

_-you would have told me if he was dead, wouldn't you?_

"No, no. He's alive," Rachel told him, although her tone still wasn't overly reassuring. "He's just…" she struggled for a moment to find the right words. "…Different since the crash."

"Different how?" Miles asked, much more alert than he had been when she had first entered the room.


	2. Chapter 2 (Miles)

"The thing that you have to remember is that even though it's only been months to us, in his head, Sebastian's been living in these delusions for over a decade. I'll warn you now, it isn't going to be easy to try and talk him out of his delusions. And be careful, lately the world in his head has been deteriorating into a paranoid delusion. He's suspicious that everyone is out to get him and on more than one occasion we've had to sedate him when he was becoming violent with the other patients."

"I don't understand," Miles told the doctor. "I get that after the accident that he would want to escape reality, but I don't understand why he would want a world where he's some kind of killer dictator. How is the idea of having killed so many people better than having accidentally killed one girl in a car accident?"

"In the start, he wasn't a killer in this world. He was trying to help the world get some order. He created his delusion as somewhere where he would have power and control and somewhere where he would still have you," The doctor explained. "I believe that the deaths in his delusions, as well as you leaving him in them, was a manifestation of his guilt, but that world was still easier for him to live in. It was easier for him to cope with becoming a monster in a world where you had left him, than in one where he thought that he had killed you. The delusions didn't set in until after he found out that there was a good chance that you wouldn't wake up from your coma."

* * *

Miles wasn't sure exactly what to expect when he walked into Bass's room, but what he did see made his heart drop in his chest.

Bass was sitting on the floor next to his bed in the fetal position with his back leaning against the bed leg and his face in his hands.

As Miles looked around the room, he thought to himself that if he had to live in a room like this that he would probably think up an alternate reality to escape in too.

"Bass?"

At first there was no reaction, but then he began to slowly shake his head back and forth in his hands.

"Bass, it's me. It's Miles… …_Bass!_"

A twisted laughter came from the other man and he slowly lifted his head to reveal a sadistic smirk plastered across his face.

"Did you really think that you could break in here and not get caught? You rebels just keep getting stupider and stupider."

With this, Bass rose to his feet and took a few steps closer.

Miles vaguely understood just enough from the doctor and Rachel's explanations to know that Bass was seeing Miles as somebody else who was out to get him.

"Bass, it's Miles. I'm fine, okay?" He tried a little louder this time. "You didn't kill me, I'm fine. You don't have to live in these hallucinations."

Bass began to slowly step towards Miles and for just a split second Miles thought that his friend might actually have recognized him, but then Bass stopped just one step away, pulled his right arm back, and punched Miles in the face over and over and over again.

Before Miles even had time to fully react, a male nurse had rushed into the room and forcibly pulled a still thrashing Monroe off of him.

As the nurse held Monroe tight, a second one entered the room carrying a needle that was filled sedative.

Just before the second nurse reached him, Bass suddenly went still and his eyes, which had remained locked on Miles throughout his entire struggle, suddenly narrowed in curiosity. It was as if maybe, just maybe, for a fraction of a second he had actually seen Miles as himself or at the very least had thought that something was off about what he was seeing.

"No, don't!" Miles yelled urgently, trying to keep them from injecting Bass with the sedative when he looked like he might have recognized him, but it was already too late.

By the time that Miles had stood back up from the ground, Bass's body had already gone limp and he was practically asleep.

"Dammit!" Miles grunted out as he slammed a fist into the wall of the room.

On his way out of Bass's room, Miles brought a hand up to his stinging mouth only to find a little dribble of blood on his hand from where Bass had split his lip open.

* * *

"What happened to your face?" Rachel asked worriedly the instant that Miles walked through the door to her house.

Although they didn't live together before the accident, Rachel had insisted that Miles move in, at least for the time being. Charlie had just turned six since the accident and she was thrilled to have Miles there, it was like Christmas had come early for her.

"It's nothing, I'm fine," Miles said, brushing the topic off as he continued to walk through the room, hoping to go find Charlie and figure out what she wanted for the birthday that he had missed instead of having to discuss what had just happened.

"Your lip's cut open and you have a black eye, that's not nothing," Rachel argued. "Did Bass do that to you? You just got out of the hospital; I knew that you shouldn't have gone to see him. It was too soon."

The last thing that Miles wanted to do at that moment was to fight with Rachel and yet he froze momentarily in the doorway with his back to her and then sighed loudly before turning to argue back at her.

"Yes, Bass did this, but not to me-"

"What do you mean he didn't do it you? It's your face that's damaged, not someone else's, Miles," Rachel pointed out. "I know that this is going to be hard for you accept, but he's gone. That's not Bass anymore, it's some monster wearing his face and there's no way to get him back. The doctors have been trying for months. _I've_ been trying, but there's no getting through to him."

"Oh really? There isn't?" Miles challenged. "He saw me, Rachel. Right before they gave him the sedative, he recognized me. I know he did, but it was too late."

"How could you possibly know that?" Rachel insisted.

"Because he's like a brother to me! I've known him my entire life, I think I know whether he recognizes me or not, Rachel!" Miles shouted out in a booming voice. "You think it's too soon for me to be going to see him after being in the hospital? What about Bass? He's been in that hospital for just as long as I was! I'm all that he has left, don't you understand that? I'm all that he has left and he's falling apart because he thinks that he killed me!"

Rachel stood in a stunned silence, unsure of how to respond to that.

"And do you know what the worst part is?" Miles continued to shout. "Maybe he was driving, but that crash was my fault. _Mine._ And now it's _my_ fault that he's stuck living in some alternate universe nightmare because coping with reality was even worse of a nightmare!"

With that, he turned right back around and headed back for the front door.

"Miles," Rachel tried in a weak voice, hoping to keep him from leaving… Hoping to somehow make him actually open up to her instead of just yelling.

Miles brought a hand up and wiped it over his face while taking a deep breath to calm himself down a little before he turned back to look at her.

"Look, I'm sorry... I know that I-" Miles struggled to get the words out. "I know that I'm being a jerk and that's not fair… I just need some space… I'm moving back to my apartment."

The last thing that Miles saw before he left Rachel's house was Charlie's little head peeking around the far corner of the room. She'd been listening to that entire argument and the look on her face hit Miles like another cannonball of guilt in the gut… Just what he needed.

* * *

**A/N: Please read and review! I hope that you liked the chapter and thanks for reading! :) I'm going to try and have at least one chapter a week of this up in an ideal world. Also an extra thanks to Sexy Meat Pies for reviewing the first chapter!  
**


	3. Chapter 3 (Miles and Bass)

**A/N: The point of view in this chapter switches back and forth between Miles' and Bass'. I tried to use line breaks to make the switches easier to understand.**

* * *

"I'm sorry, but if your friend becomes violent again then we are going to have to sedate him," the doctor told Miles in a falsely apologetic tone.

"I'm telling you that he saw me last time," Miles insisted, struggling to keep his tone sounding just irritated instead of furious as he clenched his fists in the pockets of his jacket. "Right before your nurses injected him with a sedative, he saw me."

"With all due respect, I don't want you to get your hopes up," the doctor continued in a soothing voice. "There's a good chance that your friend didn't really see you or that, even if he did, it won't happen again right away. Sebastian gets a few occasional glimmers of clarity, but for the most part lives entirely submerged in his delusions."

"His name is Bass," Miles said in a slightly angrier tone than intended before he forced himself to take a few deep breaths. His tone was much gentler and calm as he pleaded, "Look, I don't care if he tries to attack me again. Okay? I'm not going to sue if I get injured if that's what you're worried about. I'm just asking you to hold off with the sedative, okay?"

The doctor sighed loudly before he reluctantly agreed, "I'll delay it as long as I can, but if me or one of the nurses think that you're in danger then we won't hesitate to sedate your friend, whether you want us to or not."

Miles muttered out an unconvincing "thanks" before turning into his friend's room.

* * *

Bass was standing in his office, pouring himself a nice drink, when he heard footsteps behind him entering the room. He paused a moment for dramatic effect before he slowly turned as he plastered on his most sinister smirk.

He watched as Jeremy pushed a scrawny looking man in his early twenties into the room.

"Look what I found trying to sneak in, Boss," Jeremy commented with a grin.

Bass slowly looked the kid up and down as he folded his hands behind his back and took a deliberate step forward. The infiltrator looked down at the ground, avoiding eye contact as Bass took in the view of his filthy worn down clothes, his overall disheveled appearance, and the American flag design on his right sleeve.

"That'll be all Jeremy," Bass told his friend without taking his eyes off of his newfound prisoner.

* * *

Miles looked at the empty space around him before he brought his gaze back to his friend's and asked, "Who's Jeremy? I'm the only one here, Bass. It's me… It's Miles."

Bass didn't seem to hear the words as he began to laugh out the question, "So, are you here to try and rescue the other little rebel who broke in here thinking that he could get rid of me? Or did you come to try it for yourself?"

* * *

The rebel remained silent, still avoiding Bass's gaze.

"Come on, don't be shy," he insisted with a theatrical grin as he held his arms out away from his sides. "Although, I'll warn you, it didn't work out very well for any of your friends before you."

He waited a few long seconds before he asked, "No?"

He let out a slight sigh as he brought his arms back down before he brought his drink to his lips, taking a quick swig out of it.

"Smart choice," he told the rebel. "Boring… But smart…"

* * *

Miles watched as his friend set down the paper cup of water that he had been treating like some fancy scotch before he began to stalk closer.

"Of course one smart choice doesn't cancel out the fact that you were _stupid_ enough to try and break into _my_ home!" Bass hissed out as he stopped right in front of his friend.

"Bass, why are you doing this to yourself?" Miles questioned, meeting his friend's gaze with his own unafraid eyes. "Come on, man. You've got to stop this. Please. If you're not going to do it for yourself, then do it for me."

* * *

Bass watched as the twerp squirmed under his gaze for a moment longer before he brought a hand quickly up, pinning the rebel's throat against the wall and pushing slightly upwards as he moved his face closer until it was just mere centimeters away.

"But don't worry, I'm not going to kill you," he informed the kid with a generous smirk. "No, no, no. I'm feeling especially_ charitable-_" he pressed down harder "-today… Which is why I'm just going to make a nice example out of you instead."

"Please… _Please… D- Don't…_" The kid whimpered out through what little breath he could manage to catch.

Bass laughed loudly.

"On second thought, you're too weak to make a proper example out of," he insisted, pressing harder once again. "I guess I'm going to have to kill you after all."

* * *

"This is ridiculous! I have to sedate him!" A nurse insisted angrily as he picked up a syringe.

"No! ...Don't!" Miles pushed out through a weak and ragged breath.

"I already thought that he was going to kill you before he said it," the nurse insisted. "I'm sorry, but I am not here to help you fulfill whatever death wish it is that you've got going on here."

Miles knew that there was no point in arguing with the nurse, that it was more important to instead use these last few seconds before Bass would be drugged to really try and get through to him.

"If you're going to kill me, then do it!" He shouted out. "_Look me in the eyes and do it, Bass!"_

* * *

Bass had been just about to put the twerp out of his misery when he suddenly heard an angry voice… Not just an angry one, a familiar one.

He pulled his head back and stared at the rebel in surprise. It was the same kid standing there, but it sure as hell wasn't his voice. It was Miles'.

"Go ahead! Kill your best friend!"

Bass's grip loosened a little as he let the doubt turn into hesitation.

For just a second the rebel kid in front of him was replaced with the face of his best friend as he angrily shouted out, "_Show me just how damn far-gone you are!_"

Bass recoiled in shock as he took a couple of steps backwards.

* * *

Miles raised his hands in a sign that he didn't intend to make any sudden movements or startle his friend. It was kind of like trying to approach a deer without spooking it.

Bass stared in confusion and awe for a moment longer before he rasped out, "Miles?" His voice came out so quiet and cracked that he may as well have not spoken.

"Yeah. It's me, buddy," Miles confirmed gently before he turned to the nurse and quietly pointed out, "I think you can put that away now."

The nurse kept the syringe in hand, but did take a step back to let Miles try whatever he was going to do first.

* * *

Bass shook his head to try and clear out his thoughts. This was impossible. There was no way that Miles could be here and just have appeared out of thin air to replace the rebel… Was he losing his mind?

"What the hell did you do to me?" He demanded as he looked back over to see the rebel once again standing there.

His prisoner's lips twitched up into a big grin. Bass blinked and suddenly it was Miles staring at him with a look of concern.

Bass ran his hands through his hair as he looked around the room in confusion.

"What did you do?" He demanded as he looked back at the face of the rebel. "Did you drug my drink? …But how the hell would you do that without any inside help?"

* * *

As Bass spoke, Miles noticed that his words turned more into ramblings to himself than actual speaking to whoever else he might be seeing.

"…Someone else had to be helping you… Someone close to me."

Bass suddenly walked towards Miles with a sense of urgency that was very out of place from the slow and deliberate movements he had begun this visit using. His movements were now frantic as he lifted Miles off of the ground by the throat.

Miles could see his friend's whole body shaking and knew that he had gotten through, at least a little. He just needed to figure out how to convince Bass that this was reality, not the other world, before the nurse could reach them with the syringe.

"Who helped you?" Bass demanded, shouting now.

"I've seen enough," the nurse insisted.

Miles ignored him, keeping his full attention on his friend.

He brought his hands up over top of his friend's as he weakly croaked out, "Bass… _Please_."

Miles gently pulled on the other man's hands, removing them from his neck now that his friend's resistance had decreased.

* * *

Bass stared at the face of his friend, his brother, in horror before he looked back down at his hands in disgust. Had he really just been trying to choke his best friend to death?

"This isn't real," he whispered out weakly, trying to reassure himself. "This _can't_ be real. It's impossible."

Miles took a small step forward, causing his friend to take another big one backwards.

"You can't be here," Bass insisted as tears began to form in his eyes. "You left. I have to be hallucinating. …You're not Miles." He shook his head. "You're just some puny little rebel kid."

"No, Bass. I'm not," Miles told him. "_This_… What you're seeing right now. Me. That's what's real, okay?"

"No," Bass struggled out in disbelief. "No. It can't be. No… No… _No_."

His hand flew up to cover his mouth and he was shaking his head in denial.

"Please just listen to me," Miles begged. "The world that you think that you're living in isn't real."

"Do you realize how crazy you sound right now, Miles?" Bass questioned with a dry laugh. "How crazy we _both_ sound?"

"Just try to remember," Miles pleaded. "A little under five months ago we got into a car crash. I was in a coma from it and you created this world so that you wouldn't have to lose me. But now I'm awake and I'm asking you to trust me... I need you, Bass."

"I want to believe you, I really do," Bass told his friend. "But the blackout happened years ago. I haven't even been in a working car for fifteen years and you're saying that all of this started just a few months ago?"

"Yes. Apparently time travels different in wherever in your head it is that you go," Miles answered, knowing just how unconvincing he probably sounded. "They tried to explain why to me, but it was just a bunch of medical jargon that I didn't really understand. Hell, I'm not even sure that they understand. To be perfectly honest, I think that they were just using complicated terms to try and make it sound like they have any idea what's going on with you."

Bass let out a weak laugh at that, although he was still quite uncertain.

"Look around, Bass. _Really_ look," Miles told him. "Look at the electric lighting and everything else in here and _see_ it for a change... Look hard and then tell me where you think that we are."

Bass looked down at himself, at his militia uniform, and really struggled to see. If Miles was right, if he wasn't just some kind of drug-induced hallucination and the blackout had never happened, then he shouldn't be wearing this uniform.

With shaking hands, he slowly moved to touch the sleeve of his uniform, this time without the expectation of what the fabric would feel like. Instead he was questioning it, wondering if he really could have been imagining all of it.

He made a sharp intake of breath as his hand made contact with the sleeve only to feel the softness of his skin and arm hair instead of the material that he had grown used to.

"You alright?"

Bass ignored his friend and clenched his eyes shut as he tried to will the charade away.

When he opened his eyes and held his hands up in front of them, he found that his forearms were now bare. Above his elbows were the sleeves of a plain white t-shirt.

He looked down at his legs to find that they were also covered in white, his pants clearly meant to match his plain shirt. He was dressed in the cliché outfit of a psych patient.

…Miles had said something about doctors. And Bass was pretty sure that he did belong in a mental hospital if everything else that Miles had said was true.

He looked up from himself and around his office… Or what had looked a lot more like his office a few minutes ago…

It still looked pretty similar, but there was one startling difference. Instead of being lit by candles, the room now seemed to be lit by a fluorescent light in the ceiling.

Bass spent a solid minute or two just staring at the light fixture in wonder before he brought his attention back to the rest of the room, which had transformed even further. The walls were now a bright white to match his outfit and they seemed to be set much closer to each other now.

There was someone else in the room now too, a nurse in plain white scrubs.

Bass's breathing became heavy as he brought his hands to his face and closed his eyes before dragging his hands over them. By the time that he brought his hands back away the change was done.

"Bass, are you okay?"

He looked around the small room, studying the plain white minimalist furniture before he finally turned back to face his friend again.

"Is this real, Miles?" He asked in a confused tone. "Am I locked up in some kind of looney bin?"

* * *

**A/N: Please read and review! I hope that you guys liked the chapter... I had a lot of fun writing it. A special thanks goes out to IceonFire7 and sabi064 for reviewing the second chapter :)  
**


	4. Chapter 4 (Miles and Bass)

Although Bass's doctors had been quite reluctant to let him out, Miles finally managed to convince them to after a few days had passed since Bass's first moment of clarity.

Miles had been very insistent that Bass needed to get out of a place as miserable as that mental hospital and that he needed to stay with him for a while if they wanted to keep him from falling back into his delusions. Besides, Bass had been out of them for four whole days, which was significantly longer than he ever had been before.

Bass's doctor still hadn't seemed totally convinced that it was a good idea to release him, but had eventually given in when Miles had promised that he would bring Bass back right away if anything went wrong or seemed off with him. Even then, Bass had also had to agree to come back twice a week to make sure that his mental state was okay. Miles had also been warned that it was a good idea to try and keep Bass away from conflict or anything that could negatively affect his emotional state as if he somehow would be able to control that.

* * *

As they sat in the car on the way back to Miles' place, Bass stared out the window as if he was seeing everything for the first time. As he took everything in, he seemed less excited than he was just overwhelmed.

After a few minutes of driving in silence, he finally asked, "Are you sure that bailing me out of there was the best idea, Miles?"

"What? Did you think I was just going to leave you in there forever?" Miles questioned. "Of course I was going to get you out of there. That place was enough to drive anyone crazy. I don't see how they expected you to stay sane in there."

"_Stay _sane?" Bass asked in a confused tone. "Apparently I'm not be the only nut job in the car."

"You're not crazy, Bass," Miles argued. "Okay, maybe you lost your marbles for a little bit there, but you're fine now. I mean you know what's real and not now, right?"

There was a dragged out silence before Miles turned to look at his friend.

"...Bass?"

"Watch the road, Miles," Bass said insistently as soon as he turned to find Miles' attention fully on him. "...And I'm not currently hallucinating any crazy followers who think that I'm running some imaginary republic, if that's what you're asking."

"Okay, good," Miles said as he focused back on the road. "See, you're fine."

"You have a very broad definition of fine," Bass accused.

"Yeah, but that's just so that I can fit into it," Miles told his friend with a chuckle.

They sat in silence for a bit longer before Bass commented, "That noise is driving me insane." He then quickly thought to add on, "Not literally though."

"What noise?" Miles asked, starting to get a little concerned for his friend.

"That buzzing from the electricity," Bass responded. "You know when the power goes out and everything sounds too quiet, but then it comes back and you aren't used to the electrical buzzing and it's just annoying? This is like that, but ten times worse. I don't know how I used to block it out... Now it just keeps me awake at night."

The one advantage of the sound was that it was something that helped Bass to remember what was real. It was something that he could concentrate on when he felt like the delusions might be trying to creep their way back in.

"Here," Miles said as he reached over to turn the radio on. "Better?"

"Yeah, thanks," Bass told him before turning his attention back out the window.

The radio was definitely an improvement, but it was also just one more thing that Bass was going to have to readjust to.

* * *

When they stepped into Miles' apartment, Bass was relieved to find that it still looked just the way that it always had.

"You hungry?" Miles questioned as he stepped past him.

Miles was already growing used to Bass staring at everything in wonder and he couldn't really blame his friend for it.

"Starving," Bass responded as he followed his friend into the kitchen.

Miles opened his fridge and searched through the freezer before finally pulling out a box of microwave mini-pizzas.

"This is all I've got."

Miles never cooked. He never had and, let's face it, he probably never would. He claimed that learning how to would be a waste of his time. He didn't believe in spending hours on what you could do in five minutes with a microwave. He also didn't believe in grocery shopping until it was absolutely necessary, so his apartment was in an almost permanent state of being out of food. Somehow it was always stocked up on beer though. It really was a wonder how Miles survived as a self-reliant adult.

"Make me like five of those things," Bass told him.

"Seriously?" Miles asked in an amused tone.

"What? I'm hungry," Bass defended. "Besides, I've missed microwaved food."

* * *

A few minutes later the pair was sitting at the table eating their mini-pizzas. Well, Miles was eating. Bass was just inhaling his like he hadn't eaten a thing in the last three weeks.

"These are the best things I've ever eaten," he insisted as he took a small break from stuffing his face.

"Really? Because mine were lukewarm in the middle," Miles commented with an amused smirk.

"So are mine, but I don't even care," Bass responded happily. "These are amazing."

"If you think those are good, then you're going to have a heart attack when you try normal food again," Miles told him.

* * *

**A/N: Please read and review! And another giant thanks goes out to Sexy Meat Pies, missing-a-place-ive-never-been, Siamshipper17, and Estel la Rodeuse for reviewing the last chapter :)  
**


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